roads yet crossed
by thelinksthatconnectus
Summary: A series of 100 word OTGW drabbles, exploring various characters and AUs. Wirt/Sara
1. Tapes

"I didn't know tape players still existed." Sara looked over Wirt's desk, analyzing the drawings and books and various knickknacks scattered about. It fit well for him.

"They haven't made a come back like vinyl records have, but they still exist." Witt took the tape from his pocket and inserted it into the machine. "While we were cleaning the attic last spring, my mom found it and gave it to me rather than just throw it away."

He looked as though he were going to continue the story, but turned silent, letting his poetry readings fill the space between them.


	2. Empty

Though wings were still on her back, she felt as if she could never fly again.

"The 'good' lady of the woods," Beatrice muttered to herself. She took one last look at Adelaide's now empty cottage. It seemed small, and there was already a heavy, long abandoned feeling to it, though just minutes before the witch had been alive.

Better to let this place rot, Beatrice thought. With what little strength she still had, she began to move away. There were still items inside, but Beatrice knew better than to play with magic. Besides, she had bigger issues to face.


	3. Unanswered

Though the lantern offered light, it shed little warmth on Wirt's cracked skin. His coat had grown worn over his uncountable years in the forest.

The harsh wind continued to blow. Wirt clutched his axe tighter in his hands and peered through the rows of trees. All those years in the forest and the place still seemed like a maze.

"Would there be anything worse in the world then your lantern's flame dying?" The beast hung in the shadows.

Wirt shivered. Though he didn't answer the beast, the question echoed through his mind as he walked home, lantern in hand.


	4. Toppings

The scent of food cooking wafted in from the kitchen. Greg jumped up from his seat on the couch and raced out of the living room. Rather than grabbing the remote and changing the channel, Wirt followed him.

The small kitchen was warm. Their mother stood humming over the stove.

"Mashed potatoes!" Greg cried.

She smiled. "And roasted chicken, too. I'm about to start heating up the gravy."

"But I want molasses on my mashed potatoes!" Wirt half excted his brother to put their mother's teapot on his head again.

His mother raised an eyebrow.

"An inside joke," Wirt explained.


	5. Flicker

The lantern was always with him, from the time ate to when he went to bed. Though his hands weren't always on it, his eyes held it tightly, always making sure that it never vanished (as things in The Unknown often do). If it were gone, then the Woodsman would truly have nothing.

On some days, when he hauled home a new tree, the lantern burned bright, and from the flames he felt the warm, familiar presence of his daughter. When he had mere twigs, his daughter's flame was a weak flicker.

Still, either was better than the flame extinguishing.


	6. Keeping Busy

The smell of breakfast cooking filled the kitchen and slowly spread through the house. Turtles for Auntie Whispers were boiling over the fire, while Lorna's croissants were busy baking.

From outside, birds sang merrily to one another. Lorna couldn't help but whistle along.

"Lorna, is that you?" Auntie Whispers called as she moved downstairs.

"Who else would it be?" Lorna walked to the stairs, greeting her aunt with a smile.

"That breakfast smells heavenly." Her aunt smiled. "Freshly cooked turtles are wonderful. You didn't have to make those."

"I know," Lorna replied. "I just had some time on my hands."


	7. Servant

"Beatrice!" Adelaide shrieked, though there was only a few feet between them. Her cottage, after all, was small. "Is my tea ready?"

"Almost," the red head replied. She looked back to the kettle on the stove that had yet to boil.

"Well hurry up," the witch replied. "I'm thirsty. After that, sweep the floor."

"Yes, Mistress Adelaide," Beatrice replied. She had to force back a groan; her body still ached from yesterday's work.

Better me than them, Beatrice reminded herself. Wirt and Greg had been the last friends she'd ever had.

The boiling kettle pulled Beatrice away from her thoughts.


	8. Possibilities

The two boys reminded him of his daughter. The red coned hat boy was smart and moved quickly, just like his daughter had. Life moved too slow for her. The frog carrying boy held her childish wonder, the bit of her that never grew up.

Thought the woodsman hardly knew them, he knew his daughter would've liked them. Perhaps they could've even been friends. He could see them laughing together. Maybe the three would've all gone exploring, looking for hidden treasure or a new world.

And surely she'd have hated him had he pawned the boys off to The Beast.


End file.
